


Baggage

by codenametargeter



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Cassian doesn't know how to person, Everyone needs a Kaytu in their lives, I did not sign up to have a Cassian Andor Problem and yet here we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:10:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9281630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codenametargeter/pseuds/codenametargeter
Summary: Cassian Andor has a lot of baggage. Literally.





	

"You have a lot of baggage."

"What?" Cassian says, startled by the overly intuitive and frankly very human comment from his droid. 

Annoyed, Kaytu points to his bags on the ship floor. "You have a lot of baggage for someone who's supposed to be a spy."

"Oh." He frowns. "It's fine. Just fly the ship, Kay."

If droids could shrug, he's fairly sure that the droid would've shrugged as he turned back to the controls. 

People don't like Cassian. Oh they like the person he can be. When he's undercover, he knows how to use his looks to his advantage and how to charm people when he's working with an asset. If they like him, they'll trust him. It's a crucial skill for someone in the Intelligence field. It's one he's cultivated over the years. 

But when he's Cassian Andor (not Fulcrum, not Willix, not Joreth, not any of the dozens of other names he's used and forgotten,) they don't. Which is fine. It's better that way. No one gets hurt if he doesn't care. 

So he keeps to himself. In the makeshift cantinas the Alliance sets up on every base, he gets a drink and retreats to a corner, always on the edge of a gathering and never in the middle. He even keeps to the same pattern when returning home from missions with a team which are increasingly less rare. It's on one of those missions when he realizes one of his habits helps with this.

Ever since he was a child, he's always dressed in layers. Fest is cold. If you don't wear layers, you die. He's used to taking them on and off as he moves from inside to out and vice versa. It's second nature. They're coming back from a colder mission one day and he heads towards the back of the ship to swap his parka for a lighter weight jacket with his rank insignia on it. Dantooine is mild this time of year. It takes a moment until he notices that no one's bothering him. They think he is busy. He takes his time and by the time he shoves his bag into a locker again, they've all already established their conversation groups. He's free to retreat to a seat and mind his own business. It's ideal. 

"Do all humans require so many layers or is it just you?" 

"I should have programmed you to ask less questions," Cassian mutters.

"That would have made me less efficient. Also you did not answer the question." 

"Noticed that, did you?"

"Yes. I notice everything." The droid's eye lights blink. 

He stares at the console in front of him, pushing down the urge to kick it. "Some humans do when it's cold. I just like them." Kaytu keeps looking at him. "Just fly the ship, Kay."

"Yes, Cassian." And then he drops it. 

Or at least Cassian thinks he does until they're on another mission a month later and he barely makes it back to the u-wing. The hatch swings shut behind him and he's glad that he doesn't have to yell for Kaytu to get them out of there because he's completely out of breath. Lying on the ship's floor seems like a good idea right now until the droid leans over him, the ship safely in hyperspace. 

"You didn't die."

"It was close," Cassian replies, feeling like he should sit up now. Space is cold and he wants to grab his--

"Here," Kaytu says, holding a jacket over him that he has never seen before. "I stole this for you." 

"What?"

"You left me at that listening post for a long time and I was bored."

He frowns before grabbing the jacket and sitting up. "Thanks, Kay." The droid doesn't reply but merely turns and clomps back to the cockpit. Instinctively, Cassian checks the garment for any sort of tracker or listening device before pulling it on. He doesn't understand. Droids shouldn't be able to actually care unless programmed to but they shouldn't be able to get bored either. It doesn't make much sense but the gesture lies draped around his shoulders anyways and, for the first time in years, Cassian lets himself care about someone.


End file.
